


Bogotá

by mssrj_335, TheCarrot



Series: Will/Santi Bin [5]
Category: Triple Frontier (2019)
Genre: A semi-failed prompt, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Pre-Canon, Santiago's being a tease, Sexual Content, Snark, Teasing, Will's gonna deal with blue balls until Pope asks nicely apparently, what is tone? i don't know her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:35:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28963266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/pseuds/mssrj_335, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCarrot/pseuds/TheCarrot
Summary: “You’re such an ass,” scrapes out of his throat, and Santiago has the audacity to chuckle. It’s breathless, sure, but teasing. He pushes against Will’s arm, as if to test the limit. Fuckin’ Garcia, in here. Making himself a mess. Without Will. On purpose. God, something about it just makes Will’s blood run hot and his vision tinge red. He’s not sure if he loves it or hates it—maybe both.
Relationships: Santiago "Pope" Garcia/William "Ironhead" Miller
Series: Will/Santi Bin [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124348
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	Bogotá

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a LOT of stuff and not what it turned out to be lol  
> could be considered a prequel to my other story get even but doesn't need to be
> 
> thanks so much for getting this figured with me chuck!

Will leans back against the couch despite all the dirt and grime that covers him. The rest of the team is posted elsewhere. Mission accomplished, for all the filth it got him. Pope got in the shower ages ago and Will has resisted very hard against looking up the hall to the open bathroom. He shouldn’t be looking _for_ or looking _at_ his teammate. But Santiago is nothing if not a problem. Had they been on assignment? Yes. Had it been easy enough? Yes. Had Pope been teasing him the _entire_ day, making the assignment much harder than necessary?

Fuck. Yes.

God, Will’s skin tingles. As soon as the team split, Pope took every advantage of proximity. Pushing Will up into dark corners for “cover.” Groping at him looking for “ammo.” As soon as they’re both clean, oh, Pope is _in for it_. He’s just getting around to peeling his clothes off when something catches his ear. It’s faint. Barely there. Over the hiss of the shower and the screaming cicadas, he’s not even sure he hears it. So he holds his breath, trains his ears, and waits.

_“Ah—”_

There it is again, a soft grunt, whisper of breath. Will shucks his boots, grabs his pistol. Stalks down the hall to the bathroom. Santiago hasn’t said a word since he went in, aside from some comment about digging dirt out of places dirt shouldn’t be. Did the mark’s men follow them? How would they have got in the bathroom without Pope making a fuss? Doesn’t matter. Another groan, choked off and low floats out on the steam. Will takes a deep breath, rounds the corner—

Fuck, he almost drops his fucking gun at what he finds.

Pope.

Splayed out on bright blue and white tiles.

Alone.

No intruders, no danger, just Santiago with his back against the wall, cock in hand. Panting. Chest red. Curls wild around his dark brown eyes. Watching, drops of water heavy on his lashes. Will doesn’t even toss his gun. He barely gets the safety on before he lets it slide forgotten onto the toilet tank. Pope sighs when he takes a step closer. Bites his lip. Strokes himself long and slow and slides a hand through wet hair.

Will’s blue eyes, hard and full of danger, full of every goddamn thing that keep Pope on edge, scan him head to toe. All of Santiago’s hard lines are worn down to base pleasure, to golden tan skin. Warmed by hot water, slick and firm and tinged _red_. And Will licks his lips at the way he stands out against the cold blue of the tile. Santiago meets his eyes, sucks in a sharp breath, squeezes and twists his wrist so slow Will can feel a phantom touch on his dick. Shit, Pope’s just so fucking full of himself. Like he knew, he _knew_ Will would hear him even quiet as he was. For god’s sake, he’s even facing the door, it’s not like he wouldn’t see Will come in but he sure doesn’t stop what he’s doing. Will’s mouth dries out watching Santiago fist his cock a little faster, a little firmer. He cants a knee, an invitation.

The soft patter of water is the only sound until Santiago’s lips barely part and he asks,

“You just gonna stand there and watch?”

Will just steps in the spray, suddenly starving. All his clothes soaking and sticky as he presses himself into the line of Pope’s body. Throws an arm over Santiago’s chest hard, grips a wrist tight, immobilizes him. To drown and to punish.

“You’re such an ass,” scrapes out of his throat, and Santiago has the audacity to chuckle. It’s breathless, sure, but teasing. He pushes against Will’s arm, as if to test the limit. Fuckin’ Garcia, in here. Making himself a mess. Without Will. _On purpose_. God, something about it just makes Will’s blood run hot and his vision tinge red. He’s not sure if he loves it or hates it—maybe both. He tightens his grip.

“Took you long enough,” Pope moans. “Thought I was gonna be in here alone all night.”

“You weren’t even in here that long.”

“Point stands.”

Like hell it will. He presses in hard, wet denim dragging over Pope’s dick as he shoves a knee between his thighs. Santiago scrabbles at Will’s back, and he just eats his way from Pope’s neck to his thighs. His skin bruises so easily when handled right. Throw him around in a knock-down drag-out fight and Pope’ll brush it off. Only a bruise or two. But the way Will scrapes his skin between his teeth draws a mark every time. God, he wants to mark him from head to toe. Will hesitates at the crux of Santiago’s hip. Watching the way Pope’s hips cant toward him, looking for him, the promise of his mouth.

“You gonna ask me nicely? Actually invite me?” he teases, biting at the soft skin there.

Santiago gasps at the sensation. “Do I have to?”

“Yes.” Will pulls back, stares up at him despite the spray dripping in his eyes. “You do.”

The problem is, Pope knows all of this. Goddamn all his teasing and his fronting, Santiago knows how to get what he wants. As bad as Will wants to give it to him, it’s better to watch him ask. And Will’s out of patience. He’s asked a question, time for an answer.

“Five seconds, Pope.”

“Will—”

“Four.”

“Ass, just—”

“Three.”

Pope stares at him with hard, dark eyes.

“Two.”

Santiago fights the grip on his wrist, tries to pull Will in where he wants him.

“One.”

Shit. Pope doesn’t ask. Now he has to make good on his threat. Barely keeping a frustrated groan behind his teeth, Will pulls back. Santiago whines.

“Will.”

He grits his teeth and, before Pope can get another word out, he leaves. The sound of the shower recedes, and so does Pope shouting after him. There’s a desperate edge in his voice. The water shuts off, Will heads straight for the shitty little bedroom they managed to get for the night. By the time he’s shucked his soaking jeans, Pope’s followed him in. Still hard, already running that perfect mouth.

“Miller, what the hell? Do you wanna do this or not?”

He cocks an eyebrow as he steps into a pair of dry underwear.

“‘Cause if not, I’m gonna get back in the shower. With or without you.”

Will straightens, a hard line in his shoulders. As soon as Santiago catches it, his words die off and he swallows. Will tilts his head, pointedly ignoring his throbbing cock.

“You wanna do it without me, you go on ahead.”

Pope’s lips part in a faint sneer but there’s no heat to it. Will knows that look. “Maybe I will.”

Will just crosses his arms. Waits. Santiago wavers at the door. Maybe he needs one little push.

“You know if you stay it’ll be better, don’t you.”

It’s not a question, just a simple statement, and a hot slick of pleasure curls in Will’s gut as he watches the shiver creep up Santiago’s spine. Will curls a finger toward him; Santiago takes an involuntary step.

“You gonna let me take care of you?”

It’s a loaded question. A million things all stuffed into it, only one of which he wants to unpack right now. But the way Santiago bites his lip gives Will his answer before it’s even spoken. Pope’s fist clench at his side. He steps in a little further. Still Will waits.

“Can you?” Pope asks. Finally. “Please.”

In two steps, he’s across the room. Crowding Pope back up against the door, shoving a knee between his thighs like he had in the shower.

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He noses along the column of Santiago’s neck. “Gotta remember how to just ask in the first place.” Santiago whines, just behind his teeth. “Save yourself all that grief.” He sucks a mark into Pope’s skin, delighted to taste his pulse racing. “Save me from having to leave you alone.”

Pope’s head makes an audible _thunk_ against the door. “Yeah, ok, you made your point. Can we get with the program now?”

Will takes a moment to himself, just to look Santiago from head to two. Enjoy the flush creeping up from his chest. “Well,” he says with a tilt of his head, “I guess we’ll just have to see.”


End file.
